


Turning Hours Into Centuries

by knoxoursavior



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: BFFs Jim and Uhura, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, The Cloud Dwellers, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vulcan Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-09-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 17:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knoxoursavior/pseuds/knoxoursavior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The crew is sent to Ardana for a routine check-up. Spock and Jim spend time there, come to terms with their feelings, help push a planet to democracy, and witness their relationship bloom into more than they could have ever asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://startrekbigbang.livejournal.com/profile)[**startrekbigbang**](http://startrekbigbang.livejournal.com/). This is a rewrite of the TOS episode _The Cloud Dwellers_ and this is actually my first time writing something for this fandom that isn't a drabble. /o\ Thanks to [perlukafari](http://perlukafari.tumblr.com/) for the wonderful and very helpful betareading.
> 
> It was really awesome working on this! There's [art](http://einahpets-art.livejournal.com/36437.html) by reni_m and a [mix](http://8tracks.com/hollyhawke/turning-hours-into-centuries) by shadesofblurple so go check them out as well. :D

  
[stardate 2260.17]

"Status report?"

"All systems normal, Captain."

"Very good, Lieutenant Sulu. Ahead, warp factor four."

"Aye, Captain."

Jim shifts on his chair, uncomfortable and still unable to relax. Their previous mission with the Kzinti was successful. A reasonable compromise was reached and for the duration of the impending Klingon war, Kzinti will be an ally of the Federation. It’s what the Enterprise was sent to accomplish and accomplish they did. What Jim doesn’t like is the price they had to pay. He was always bad at diplomacy but he’s never felt more disappointed in himself than their first attempt to reach out to the Kzinti. So many lives were lost and he has no one to blame but himself.

Now, he wants nothing more than to go to his quarters and get a good night’s sleep but there’s still a couple of hours left before alpha shift ends and Rand has just forwarded him an unbelievable amount of paperwork. Add that to the lengthy mission parameters Starfleet just sent them, then Jim won’t be getting much sleep for the next few days.

What makes it worse is that when he does get some sleep, it’s muddled with images of Khan, of the Enterprise, broken and vulnerable, of Spock, on the verge of tears and looking like he’s lost everything. Every time, he can’t move, can’t do anything to stop Khan, can’t do anything to stop the Enterprise from taking hits, shedding its beauty off bit by bit, can’t do anything to comfort Spock, hold him, tell him everything’s gonna be okay you’re safe I’m here for you because he’s about to die and he can’t breathe--

"Captain, are you alright?"

Spock is tense as he hovers near the captain, his lips slightly pursed as he examines Jim’s pallor and trembling hands. Any other day and Jim would have said no because, yes, he’s just that stubborn. Today, though? He may have reached his limits.

"Actually, Mr. Spock, I’m thinking of heading down to Medical Bay before Bones gets the chance to stick me with a hypospray unexpected."

"Would you like me to accompany you, Captain?"

"Sure thing. Sulu, you have the conn."

"Yes, sir."

Jim shuts his eyes when the turbolift door closes, listening to his ship’s engines, taking comfort in it. He tries to convince himself that Spock isn’t still tense beside him, like he has something to say but is unsure of how to approach the topic.

"Captain, I have told you this before but you do not need to be on the away team every mission we have."

"Hey, as the captain, I should know the risk I'm putting my crew in. And my plans always work, don’t they?"

"Perhaps, but there are always alternatives."

"So, what, you could go out there and die? I’m not having that on my conscience, Spock. Not you."

"While I appreciate your concern, Jim, I do not understand why you hold my life above yours."

Jim knows that since Khan, Spock's been more confused, more protective than usual. He has come to terms with his human side and now, he’s starting to acknowledge their friendship. He struggles with the idea of Jim's death. Frankly, the whole crew's struggling and Jim understands. He actually did _die_. If not for his naturally stubborn and determined personality, he would be strapped to his chair and treated like a god whose feet aren't meant to touch the ground.

"I don't want to talk about this right now, Spock." Because he really doesn't. He has answers for all of Spock's questions, spoken or not, but he's not yet ready to say them out loud, not when he doesn't have answers to his own.

"Then, would you at least be open to, as humans say, sitting out during our mission on Ardana?"

"Oh come on, Spock. It's a routine check. I'm not going to get shot or kidnapped or locked in a torture chamber."

"Still, Captain." Spock pauses, and Jim readies himself with excuses. Ardana is ruled by people who take pride in their intellect, their rich arts and culture. He can handle himself, damn it, he's not some piece of china. If the need arises, he can pull rank. "The knowledge that you are safe on the ship will be... comforting to the crew. Especially Doctor McCoy and myself."

Jim doesn't speak for a while, turning over his options even though he knows that he's too tired right now. He's sold. Spock wins this round.

"Fine. Just this once, all right? And you should be glad I don't have enough in me right now to reprimand you about your little stint with the Kzinti."

"Stint, Captain?" Spock replies as innocently as a Vulcan can, and Jim swears he doesn't know whether he wants to laugh or knock his first officer on the side of his head. "I do not know what you are referring to."

Jim laughs because even if he knows Spock can beat his ass to oblivion, that has got to be the most adorable thing a Vulcan has done. The turbolift stops and Jim's still smiling as he gets out.

"Come on. You won't be all sunshine and flowers as you are now when Bones gets a hold of us."

"Jim, I am hardly--"

"Spock, just let it go."

"Of course, Captain."

 

***

 

"About time! I thought I was gonna have to come and get you myself."

"Well, good morning to you too, Bones!"

"There's nothing good," Jim doesn't know how but Bones manages to stab his neck with a hypospray without pausing, "about my goddamn morning, especially when I have to monitor your sorry ass after what you pulled on that planet infested with furry lion men I like to call allergy triggers!"

"Ouch! Fuck, Bones, can't you be gentle for once? I didn't even give you any trouble this time." Jim grimaces, clutching his neck and eyeing Bones' hands for more hypos.

"No way in hell, Jim and especially not when I have to put up with this crap for the next five years."

"Oh come on! I brought Spock with me."

"The hobgoblin would've come anyway. He might be an idiot but he's a model patient compared to you." Bones scrunches his nose at the data PADD in his hand. "And since you so kindly ignored my orders for light duty back at Kzinti, it'll be one week of bed rest for you, Jimmy boy."

"Wha--"

"I think you will be satisfied to know that Jim will not be participating in our next mission, Doctor. Also, Yeoman Rand has agreed to minimize the Captain's paperwork so that he will be able to rest sufficiently," Spock says. Bones takes a moment to scrutinize him before nodding his approval.

"Hey, that's not fair! Spock was worse and you're not telling him to keep his hands off the science labs," Jim whines, glaring at both his best friend and his first officer. "Also, you got Rand to agree to that? Spock, you charmer!"

"As much as I hate to admit it, Spock doesn't need my constant attention because he has that Vulcan mind voodoo thing," Bones mutters, throwing Spock a disdainful look. "So stop complainin' will ya, because I will strap you to that biobed if I need to."

"I hate you both." Jim crosses his arms and gives them his best pout. "You know, just to remind you, I still am your commanding officer."

"And I'm as good as your guardian angel so shut up and find yourself something to do for a week that does not involve this ship." Jim probably won't win with Bones and Spock tag-teaming so he just snorts in response. He'll just find other ways to tick Bones off since he apparently has a whole week free now. Jim's eyes narrow as he watches Bones scanning Spock with a tricorder, the screws in his head turning as he wonders how he can get even in the future.

"You're good to go." Bones grunts as he turns the tricorder off, glaring at Spock for his perfect health and the lost chance to torture him via extended medical bay confinement. Then, he turns to Jim. "And you! I'll know if you go straight to your room or not so don't even try, Jim."

"Heh." Jim sticks his tongue out at them as he walks out of the medical bay. Spock catches up with him easily, looking not even a bit flustered or out of breath.

"Why must you be so stubborn, Captain?" he asks, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Hey, you're just as stubborn as I am," Jim grumbles. "You just have the advantage of your intimidating and sassy Vulcan attitude."

"Vulcans are not sassy, Captain."

"Could've fooled me."

Spock raises an eyebrow. "You have already agreed to my request. What purpose does it serve when you provoke Doctor McCoy?"

Jim snorts at this. "As if you don't enjoy arguing with him, Spock."

"Ah." Spock tilts his head, understanding dawning on him. "Doctor McCoy has a very interesting way of forming friendships. Though, I admit, I am not adverse to it. The debates I have with him are most enlightening."

"What, even more enlightening than ours?" Jim clutches a hand to his chest, gasping. "You wound me so, Spock."

"I assure you, Captain, I hold our conversations above most."

"Really?" Jim laughs. "Even Scotty and Chekov and Sulu?"

Spock keeps his eyes straight ahead of him but Jim can still see the corner of his mouth quirking upwards. "Perhaps."

 

***

 

Jim groans when he hears the buzzer. He hopes to god it isn't Bones as he crosses his room. His back is aching and he doesn't want Bones finding out and using it as leverage to extend his bed rest.

"Uhura." Jim's eyes widen when he opens the door and sees Uhura standing with her head raised high and her hands behind her back. "It's just you."

"Yep. Just me." Uhura sighs and when she lets her arms fall to her sides, Jim can see her hands tightened into fists. "Can I come in?"

Jim steps out of her way and follows her to his sitting room, settling on an armchair once she's comfortable on the couch.

"So, to what do I owe this pleasure, Lieutenant?"

Uhura hesitates. She looks torn, as if she isn't really sure she should be here, so Jim waits. He's worked with Uhura long enough to know not to push her. "Look, I know this is weird. I mean, me being here, but I'm just really worried about Spock. I've accepted that his job entails risking his life, Jim, but not blatantly running into death's arms."

"I'm not really sure I'm the one you should be talking to, Uhura," Jim says, unsure of what to do.

Uhura sighs, reaching out and laying her hand on Jim's arm. "He won't listen to me, Jim. I avoided him because of our break up and now I feel like I'm not even his friend anymore."

"I'm not... I'm not really sure what you want me to say, Nyota."

"I just want you to talk to him, Jim. He'll listen to you. Make him stop throwing himself in the line of fire for you." Uhura's breath catches and all Jim can do is pat her hand awkwardly. "Please, Jim? I know you're worried, too. Probably more than I am."

Jim can't stop the laugh that's bubbling inside him. "Believe me, Uhura. I've tried, but he's one stubborn Vulcan."

"I guess it doesn't help that you don't hesitate to return the favor, does it?"

"Yeah," Jim replies. They're both smiling now, fondly yet painfully. "Tell you what, I'll keep trying if you keep trying."

"Should we get the crew's help too?"

"Sure. Why the hell not?"

Jim and Uhura shake on it, faces serious. They last five seconds before bursting into giggles. When Jim gets over it, he looks Uhura in the eye, searching but he isn't sure for what.

"You know, I thought you'd hate me more for this. Spock taking bullets for me, I mean."

Uhura takes a deep breath, exhaling it in one puff. "I understand why he does it but that doesn't mean I approve of it."

"Huh."

"You don't get it, do you?" Uhura looks at him with a knowing smile and Jim wonders what she's seeing that he isn't.

"No," he admits. "I don't."

Uhura's smile only widens. "Which is why you're going to talk to him."

She stands up, straightening her skirt before walking herself to the door. Before leaving, though, she turns back to him, lips pursed and eyes narrowed as if she's sizing him up--a gambler scrutinizing his winning horse.

"Good night, Captain, and good luck."

 

***

 

"Did you even sleep last night?"

"Yes, I did!"

"For one hour, maybe."

"Russians do not need sleep."

"Hey, guys. What's up?" Jim plops down on a seat beside Scotty, across Sulu and Chekov who, right now, are arguing quite heatedly.

"Captain," they greeted him, voices clipped, before going back to glaring at each other, hands fisted around their spoons and their food untouched.

"Uh." Jim, suddenly wishing he didn't get breakfast in the first place, turns to Scotty who's looking just as horrified as he feels. "Hey. I didn't know you still ate up here. Scotty."

"I might just start avoiding this part of the ship after today, Captain."

"What are the lovebirds fighting about, anyway?"

"We are not lovebirds," Sulu and Chekov quip. Jim jumps in his seat, not expecting that they're actually listening to him through their argument. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees them go back to arguing.

"The laddie's been spending a lot of time reading and following me around in Engineering," Scotty whispers. "Hasn't been getting much rest, from what Sulu says."

"What?" Jim turns serious, eyebrows furrowing. He hasn't heard about this before. "When did this start?"

"Ever since, you know," Scotty purses his lips and his hesitation alone tells Jim just what he means. "He still feels guilty about what happened."

Jim allows this to sink in. He watches as Sulu tries to convince Chekov to take a breather, looking as if he's doomed to fail.

"You don't have to study all that now," Sulu's saying. "Besides, you'll get sick drinking all that coffee."

"I told you, Hikaru, I will be fine."

"If I may," Jim interjects, his worry washing over his initial reluctance, "I think Sulu's right. There's no need to rush, Chekov. You shouldn't be putting so much pressure on yourself."

"As I have observed you this past week while you visited the science labs, Mr. Chekov, I must concur." Spock sets down his tray next to Jim and frankly, he couldn't be any happier to see his first officer. Chekov looks up to Spock, even more than Scotty. "In rushing yourself, you might forget that the reason why a scientist pursues education is because of his thirst for knowledge, not because he feels that he is required to do so."

"See? Even Mr. Spock agrees," Scotty says, pushing Chekov's plate closer to him. "Eat, laddie."

Chekov scrunches his nose and they're all waiting, hoping for him to say yes because he's kind of everyone's little brother and the whole crew can't help but feel protective of him. A little bit of their troubles lift when he nods slowly. "All right, I will try, then."

 

***

 

Jim's on his way to the medical bay to bother Bones because it's only been three hours since he had breakfast and he's already done with paperwork. He found himself lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering what the heck he's supposed to do for the rest of the day, and decided to get up and let his feet take him around the ship. He greets the officers he passes, and some ensigns, mistaking his sulkiness for dissatisfaction, are trembling so bad that Jim actually cheers up a bit.

"Boooones," Jim calls. "I'm bored."

"Well, then, you better get the hell out of my medbay because no one's gonna entertain you here." Bones is glaring at the data PADD in his hand and Jim can't really blame him because he's seen a CMO's daily paperwork and it's just as bad as his, if not worse.

"But I have nothing to do," Jim whines.

"That's the goddamn point, Jim. I put you on bed rest so you could lie down on your bed and sleep!"  
Jim grimaces. "Yeah, that's not working out for me."

Concern creeps into Bones' features and he immediately reaches for a tricorder, not even bothering to listen to Jim say that he doesn't need to. "Do you want me to give you pills for this?"

Jim smiles at Bones' unusually gentle bedside manner. "Nah. I never thought I'd say this but I think a hypo should do the trick."

"I'll stop by your quarters later tonight."

"Thanks, Bones." Jim claps his best friend on the back and makes a beeline for the door.

"Hey, Jim!"

"Yeah, Bones?"

"Don't think you can go to the gym because of this."

"The gym? Heh, the thought never even crossed my mind!" Jim yells, cringing. He should have expected that Bones wouldn't let his guard down so easily. Damn it, that's as subtle as he can get and Bones still got onto him. Jim sighs. He'll win one of these days.

When Jim arrives in the weapons lab, it's empty. Of course, Jim feels that’s reason enough to pick up a prototype phaser and start pointing it all around the place, while providing himself with the appropriate sound effects.

"Captain, what are you doing?"

"Carol." Jim jumps in surprise, almost dropping the phaser in his hands. "I was just, uh, you know, admiring your handiwork."

"Of course you were, Jim." Carol's amusement is obvious in her eyes and Jim hasn’t felt this embarrassed in weeks. "Is this part of your rounds? Or does it have something to do with Mr. Spock asking me to keep an eye on you when you visit the labs?"

"Spock told you that?" Jim groans. "I swear, I am never going to let Spock and Bones agree on something ever again. They're unstoppable!"

"I can't blame them, Captain. You do need to be controlled sometimes," Carol says, her features looking graceful and smooth despite the smirk on her lips.

"So are you supposed to kick me out now?"

"Sadly, no. I'm supposed to find you something to tinker with that won't explode in your face." Carol laughs. "Though I don't know if that's possible in a weapons lab."

Eventually, though, Carol digs up some malfunctioning phasers and puts Jim to work. She never lets him out of her sight, not even when Jim shows promising instinct for the task at hand. Surprisingly, Jim doesn't get tired of the work. He stays until he has to leave for chess with Spock. He regretfully sets down phaser number 14 and promises Carol that he'll come back to finish his work sometime this week. She actually looks up from her tricorder to smile at him before he leaves.

It kind of makes Jim sad to know that in just a few weeks of staying on the Enterprise, Carol's probably going to be as obsessive about her work as Spock and his legion of faithful science officers are.  
Jim has paced his room countless times when Spock arrives.

"Spock! I was beginning to think you weren't gonna show up," Jim says as Spock enters his room. He tries not to fuss, instead taking the chessboard from Spock to set it up.

"That is illogical, Jim. I would have notified you beforehand if it were so." Spock sits down, immediately taking a black pawn once Jim finishes.

They start their game with Jim feeling more energized than ever. "So what's the ETA for Ardana?"

"We will arrive there in ten point three hours, Captain."

"Just in time for alpha shift," Jim says, approving. "Who are you planning to include in the landing party again?"

"Lieutenant Uhura and Lieutenant Sulu," Spock replies. "Nyota has volunteered to select more officers from Communication. They wish to see firsthand the culture of the Ardanans."

"Well, to be honest, a city on a cloud, just floating in the sky? I'd like to see that too."

"Perhaps you will, Captain. I estimate that there is a 97.38% chance that the High Advisor will invite the crew to beam down for a gathering."

"Awesome!" The light in Jim's eyes dim when he realizes something. "Bones won't dare ban me from that, right?"

Spock's mouth twitches, probably to suppress a smile, Jim thinks. "While I am sure that he would like to, he cannot control your social activities."

"No, he can't," Jim says, smug. "Thank god Starfleet's finally giving us a break, though. It's not shore leave but it's something."

"Indeed. The missions they have been giving us are long-winded and tiring. There has been a decline in crew morale and efficiency." Jim eyes Spock's next move, hoping that the plan he's formed can be put into action. "Though, I admit that the crew’s performance is still very much above average."

"Well, the Enterprise has a fine crew, Commander," Jim says, and he barely keeps the excitement from showing in his voice when Spock makes his move and does exactly what Jim wants him to do.

"It has a fine captain as well," Spock says, eyes warm when he looks at Jim.

"Spock, you're making me wonder if I should still check you in three moves."

"Three moves, Jim? I doubt it."

Jim actually ends up winning and breaking Spock's five-win streak. Spock, the good sport that he is, congratulates him, and Jim, the smug idiot, gloats.

"The day will come, Spock, when I'll be the one having winning streaks."

"Of course, Captain," Spock replies, though Jim can tell he's probably just being humored. Spock bows his head and wishes him a good night before heading to his quarters.

"Night," Jim murmurs. He jumps onto his bed and stays there, looking at the ceiling, just trying to figure out what's going on with himself and where he wants his life to go and what he’s going to do tomorrow because apparently, it's all he can do at night when he's deprived of work and he's surrounded with insane people and _Spock_. He feels exhaustion seeping into him and he tries, he tries so hard to stay awake but when he closes his eyes to rest for ten seconds, he gets stuck inside his nightmare.

He dreams of endless darkness and a vortex of nothingness, of eternal solitude and gradually depreciating sense of self. He doesn’t know how much times passes but soon enough, he finds it hard to breathe, as if the space around him is constricting, forcing the air in his lungs to disintegrate, to leave him hollow.

He wakes up screaming, grabbing at a stunned Bones.

"Damn it, man. Maybe I should just give you those pills."

Jim smiles and waves his hand, as if it could get rid of Bones' worries. "Sure, Bones."

"You look like shit, Jim," Bones says, shaking his head as he replicates the meds. "Take one pill for lunch and sleep, all right?"

"Dreamless?"

Bones nods. "Like you've been knocked out with a bat."

"Well, who can say no to that?" Jim laughs, clapping Bones on the back. "Thanks, Bones."

"No problem, kid."

 

***

 

Jim almost screams in relief when his comm light blinks. He just woke up a few minutes ago, courtesy of his alarm. He got dressed in a rush only to fall back into his bed, sprawled as he waits for news of the away team's arrival.

"Scotty, please tell me that they're back and we can go down there and party," Jim says, almost desperate.

"They're on board, Captain, and I think Mr. Spock can answer that question himself." Jim hears fumbling in the background, amidst soft sound of murmuring and the hum of the transporter running.

"Captain, you are awake," he hears Spock say.

"Spock, get over how many hours I sleep at night and just tell me." Jim's practically begging now and that probably looks bad for him as a Captain but one, his crew's used to him by now, and two, just two days of bed rest has driven him crazy, what more if he actually has to go through with the rest of the week?

"Captain." Jim swears he can hear the controlled exasperation in Spock's voice. "The High Advisor Plasus has invited the whole crew over for a party. It will last three days."

"Three days?" Those people can party, Jim thinks, but he isn't going to complain. "Thank God. Have Uhura come up with a duty roster?"

"I will assist her as well."

"That's good," Jim says. "I'll see you later for breakfast?"

"Affirmative, Jim."

Jim smiles. First, a night of decent sleep, and now, a three-day party? He feels absolutely spoiled. Of course, now he has to fuss about his hair before he heads to the mess, but he's not complaining.

 

***

 

Jim double checks his uniform, smoothing the creases in it and trying to make his hair less of a mess.  
"Captain, please refrain from touching your hair," Spock says as he steps on the transporter pad beside him.

"What? Why?" Jim panics, trying to remember if there was something in the briefing about it. He really doesn't want to offend an Ardanan when he's going to be in their territory. "Is it bad in their culture?"

Spock doesn't respond, instead he's emanating that irritating yet adorable Vulcan smugness of his.

"You're playing me," Jim murmurs. "Oh my god, Spock, you've been spending too much time with the crew!"

"Is that not what you requested of me, Captain?"

"I didn't know we'd be such a bad influence on you," Jim says, chuckling.

"Indeed, I have noticed an increase of sarcastic remarks and references to human folklore this past week," Spock says. "Perhaps, I should revert to spending more time at the labs instead of joining the crew's social activities."

"Oh, come on, the only time you actually stay is during chess competitions and even then, all you do is make the junior officers cry because of your ruthlessness." Jim shakes his head, remembering the expressions of shock and fear on lieutenants and ensigns alike when Spock beats them in five moves or less. It's sad, funny, and adorable all at the same time.

"The transporter's ready, Sir," Scotty says from where he's standing by the controls.

"You're not getting away from this conversation, Spock," Jim warns. He rolls his eyes at his first officer's look of innocence and turns to Scotty. "Energize."

The scene shifts from the transporter room to an expanse of blue sky and structures with details so delicate, Jim doesn't even know how to begin describing them. He looks at his feet excitedly and he isn't disappointed. It's so weird, to know that he's standing on a cloud and to see it swirling around his feet, but to feel as if he's on solid ground.

"This is amazing," he says, laughing as he takes one step after another slowly, as if he's afraid his foot's going to fall through and moment now. "Spock, this is amazing."

"Indeed, Captain." Jim barely hears his reply, too taken with the beauty around him. If he had more control over his thought processes, he would be wondering how the hell the Ardanans managed all this, but right now, he's just wrapping his head around the fact that he's kilometers above the ground and that he's literally on a fucking cloud.

"Captain James T. Kirk, I presume?"

Jim stumbles as he attempts to straighten up and control his expression when he faces the High Adviser. Thankfully, Spock's there with a firm hand on his arm to steady him. "High Adviser Plasus, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"And you, Captain. Mr. Spock." Plasus bows in greeting. Then, he steps back and reveals a woman dressed in blue silk that flows over her curves and covers an insanely small amount of skin. "May I introduce to you this city's most beautiful work of art, my daughter, Droxine."

"You're very beautiful, lady Droxine." Jim takes her hand to kiss it, admiring her beauty and the obvious care she takes of her appearance.

"Thank you, Captain." She smiles politely, but she barely looks at him, which makes Jim's eyebrows shoot up higher than they ever have before. Usually, girls would be all over him by now but then Droxine's obviously not into him. When he follows her gaze to a very rigid, blank-eyed Spock, he can't help the strangled sound that leaves his lips.

Jim's face flushes when everyone turns to look at him. He coughs awkwardly, avoiding their eyes. "Uh. So, maybe I could go to my room and set my things down before we tour the city?"

"Of course." Plasus leads them into the building in the middle of the city; a tall and handsome structure that Jim's sure is covered in engravings that the Communications and Science departments are going to love. For some reason, though, he can't really concentrate on his surroundings. His gaze keeps on going back to Droxine, who really is supposed to be looking in front of her or else she might just trip and embarrass herself. Instead, she keeps on stealing looks at Spock, who, by the way, is still very tense beside Jim. It's just so _weird_ for Jim that he actually feels something tighten in his stomach whenever he sees the look on her face.

Relief floods him when they finally stop in front of an orange door. Plasus faces them with a friendly smile on his face, gesturing to the room. "Captain, you wouldn't mind sharing a room with Mr. Spock, would you? I'm afraid it's the best we can offer right now."

Jim waves his hand, dismissing the High Adviser's worries. After all, 428 people is a lot. "We'll be fine, right, Spock?"

"Affirmative," Spock says. Jim can see him relaxing a bit, his back a little less stiff and his face less set.

"But, Father, you know there are other rooms Mr. Spock can stay in. The Captain can have this room all to himself," Droxine says, placing an arm on Plasus' shoulder. Her smile sends shivers up Jim's spine.

Thankfully, Spock speaks before Plasus can even get a chance to open his mouth. "While I appreciate your offer, this room will be satisfactory."

"Oh. All right then, but if you change your mind, I think I can come up with something." Jim swears her expression is purely predatory now and honestly, he's kind of horrified by it. He excuses himself and practically rushes into their quarters.

"Captain, do you require medical assistance?"

"What? No, I'm fine," Jim says, laughing and immediately wincing at how forced it sounds.

"Captain. Jim, you are shaking."

"I am?" Jim swallows the lump forming in his throat and looks at his hands. They really are shaking, he realizes, so he lets them fall to his sides, fisted. "Fuck."

"What is wrong?" Spock's eyebrows are furrowed, his mouth set in a slight frown.

"I..." Jim closes his eyes, concentrates on controlling himself, tries not to freak out because just what the fuck is wrong with him? "I'm not sure. Maybe I'm just overwhelmed?"

Spock doesn't let his gaze stray from Jim as he assesses the Captain's well-being, contemplating whether he should comm Doctor McCoy or not. "Perhaps you should rest, Jim."

"But what about the tour?"

"I will inform the High Adviser and his daughter that we will not require their services anymore," Spock says, finality in his tone.

"I still do want to see the city, though," Jim says, disappointed.

"Then I will give you the tour when you are ready, Jim." There's affection in Spock's eyes that Jim can't bear to see right now so he takes his shoes off and lies on the bed. The sheets are soft, made of blue silk that feels like heaven against Jim's skin.

"What about you?" Jim asks.

"I will meditate," Spock assures him, dragging a chair to his side. "Sleep, Jim."

And so without hesitation, Jim lets exhaustion take over his body. He slips into the welcoming hands of sleep.  



	2. Chapter 2

  
When Jim comes around, Spock isn't meditating anymore. Instead, he's staring at his data PADD, probably reading up on the latest developments in the field of science.

"Spock?" he murmurs groggily, still trying to get his eyes to stay open for at least three seconds.

"Jim, you are awake." Spock sets down his PADD and focuses his attention on Jim.

"How long was I out?"

"6.34 hours, sir."

"Oh. The party's started?"

"Yes. Do you wish to go?"

Jim sits up, immediately regretting it when his head starts to hurt. "Uh, I'm thinking about it."

Spock nods in acknowledgement. He goes back to reading and Jim's left to wonder what he's supposed to do now. He could go to the party but at this point, everyone would already be drunk and he'd just be wasting his time. His headache's shooed away his drowsiness so he can't go back to sleep anymore.

"Oh, I know," Jim says, having an epiphany. "What do you say about having that tour?

"Jim, it is already nighttime," Spock deadpans, as if the dark can actually stop Jim from doing what he wants.

"So?"

Spock opens his mouth, a retort on the tip of his tongue, and closes it again, realizing that however logical his reason may be, it won't be a match for Jim Kirk's stubbornness. "I suppose tonight will be adequate."

"All right! So, where are you going to take me first?" Jim gets the urge to add _sweetie_ somewhere in there and his smile almost falters because he can't even blame the sleep-induced haze in his brain for that passing thought.

Spock gives him that smug smile again, regaining his footing. "You will have to find out yourself, Jim."

Logically, Spock leads him farther and farther from the heart of the city, going from the gardens to the galleries to the clubs and the bars rocking with different genres of music and bright with flashing, colorful lights. It's all so overwhelming that Jim wonders at one point whether there's something in the air of Stratos, whether the high that he's feeling is because of the air or because of his personality or because being here just does this to a person. It all seems so dreamlike that Jim's content to just watch people gliding together, shadows dancing over their skin like some form of sinful art.

Spock ends up having to force him to pull away from watching but it's all for the better when he's taken to the edge of the city. It's quiet, far from the parties and the drunken laughter, where it's only Jim and Spock. He sits on the edge, against Spock's judgement, and when he stares up at the stars in the sky it almost feels like home.

"You wrapped up this tour pretty well, Spock," Jim says, bumping his first officer's shoulder with his own. His head is thrown back and his eyes closed as he enjoys the coldness of the night.

"Indeed." It sounded like a question, with a touch of insecurity and uncertainty. "Although, I admit, this was not included in Lady Droxine's tour."

Jim scrunches his nose when he looks at Spock. "Is that supposed to be an innuendo? Because I really don't wanna know."

Spock raises an eyebrow, looking at him with such obvious exasperation that Jim's kind of proud of himself. "I meant it literally, Jim."

"Well, maybe she thought you wouldn’t like it since you might fall off and die or something." Jim really doesn't know why there's disdain in his tone.

"This planet's gravity is similar to Earth's. I do not think it is probable that I will lose my balance and fall." Now it's Spock's _secretly rolling my eyes at your human illogic_ tone.

"I was just saying," Jim whines. "Why'd you take me here, though?"

"I took into account your incessant desire for danger." Sarcasm, of course. Man, Jim thinks, he knows so much about Spock's little quirks and expressions. "It is pleasing here."

"It is," Jim agrees. He sighs, looking at the view of the land below them and squinting at the darkness that meets his eyes. "What is it like down there?"

"The Troglytes live inside the caves, I imagine."

"You're speculating?" Jim says, his curiosity growing.

"The High Adviser would not tell me much when I asked him," Spock confirms.

"Well, have you tried asking Droxine? Because I think she'd be happy to tell you," Jim suggests, meaning it. As uncomfortable as he feels about her, the fact that Plasus is hiding things alarms him.

"I have not." Spock's expression is controlled, calculating. "Perhaps I will."

A smile finds its way to Jim's features. "Been avoiding her, huh?"

"It would be unwise not to," Spock says. "She is quite persistent."

"Why? Don’t you like her?" The moment he says it, Jim flinches. The answer's kind of obvious, as conveyed by Spock's raised eyebrow. "Okay, blondes not your type?"

"I do not have a preference."

"Come on, everyone has a _thing_ , Spock." Jim rolls his eyes. "Take me, for example. I'm not really picky but when it comes to a real relationship, I'm ridiculously attracted to a challenge."

"Indeed?" Spock asks, amused.

"Indeed." Jim flashes him the cockiest grin he can muster. "Now you."

"I, too, prefer a challenge," Spock says after a few moments of silence. Jim groans.

"Oh come on, Spock, be original!"

"But it is the truth," Spock says. "I live by routine and protocol. It is only logical that I find someone who will present me with a challenge, someone who will understand me enough to know that as a scientist, I must not only follow a method, I must also take risks to prove a hypothesis. It is the same in life."

Jim feels his humor slipping away. He looks at Spock--really looks at him, gaze unwavering. "Spock, why did you and Uhura break up?"

Spock hesitates but Jim doesn't think it's because he doesn't want to tell him, but because Spock just doesn't talk about it. "She did not... As she said, she could not see me beyond my logic and my principles. She felt that I deserved more while she needed someone who could make her laugh."

"Do you agree with her?" Jim asks, and Spock's eyes hold so much confusion, so many of his troubling thoughts that he wants to reach out and hug every ounce of air out of the Vulcan. He knows he can't, though, because Spock and his personal space just can't be messed with. Jim's determined but he's seen Spock's reluctance to McCoy's touch and _that's_ protocol.

"I agree with her sentiment," Spock answers carefully. "I was content with Nyota but I was not really happy. I assume it was the same for her."

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry." And he is, even though a sliver of relief and gratitude's mixed in his emotions. This is the first time that Spock's actually told him something. Sure, they talk about work and trivial things while they're walking together, sparring, or playing chess, but they never open up like this.  
Suddenly, Jim feels like Spock deserves to know something about him too. "You know, my whole cocky attitude is just a coping mechanism. Kind of like Bones and his temper. We're both just fucked up softies inside."

Spock's mouth quirks up in a small smile. "I am aware."

Jim has to squint his eyes in confusion when he shoots Spock a questioning look. "But you're always so... I mean, it's like you rip apart every single decision, every move I make. Sometimes I feel like you hate me for how much of an idiot I am.”

"You mistake my attention for hatred," Spock murmurs, realization dawning on him. "I criticize you because I do not wish for you to fail or put yourself in danger."

Jim purses his lips. He can't be mad at Spock, not when he's that sincere. "I'm sorry. I'll try not to bitch when you point out my mistakes."

"Thank you."

Jim smiles and thinks, that's enough of cajoling Spock for the day. Now, he just wants to close his eyes and rid himself of troubling thoughts. He doesn't worry about anything, doesn't even think about his confusing feelings or the possibility that Plasus is hiding something dangerous from them. Spock's here beside him and if that doesn't mean that Jim's safe, then he's not sure what does.

 

***

 

Jim raises his glass of Ardanan rum and howls along with the group of people circled around him. The party's barely getting started and everyone already seems so high, himself included. The faces around him are blurred but he manages to down a couple of shots and still have the mind to sit down and take a break. He weaves himself through the sea of bodies dancing together and manages to reach the doors of the function room. He leans against them, taking deep, gradually less erratic breaths.

"Not enjoying the party?"

Jim opens his eyes to a tall brunette. She's dressed in a blue dress, much like Droxine's, except it's darker, more sensual. "Nah. Just in between things."

"My name is Vanna," she says, a coy smile on her lips. She extends a hand and Jim kisses it gently, his gaze relentlessly fixed on her.

"Captain James T. Kirk." His voice is low, sultry when he introduces himself. This is what he needs, he tells himself, and this woman standing in front of him just screams seduction. It's a perfect way to relieve some of his stress.

"I know." When Jim tries to loosen his grip on her hand, she doesn't let him. She takes them and lets them rest on her hips before her own hands travel lightly, slowly, from his arms to his biceps to his shoulders, lingering there, teasing until they finally reach his face, his jaw, his lips. She leans in, and this is what Jim should want but he doesn't, he _doesn't_ , so he pulls away.

"I'm sorry," he tells her, but he's sure it comes out as a question.

"No need to apologize, Captain," she says, offering him an easy smile. She nips lightly at the junction between his jaw and his ear before disentangling herself from Jim. She walks away, her hips swaying flirtatiously and Jim swears, it's tempting to just reach out and kiss her but the burning in his chest stops him. "Maybe next time."

Jim realizes that he's breathing heavily when she goes out of his line of sight. He groans. "I need a drink."  
Jim ends up going to the bar, downing drink after drink and basically ignoring everyone except the bartender. He doesn't care that he's gonna regret the hangover tomorrow. He just wants to forget how messed up he feels right now because goddamn it, he's supposed to be a ladies' man. Heck, Bones has called him a nymphomaniac enough to last a lifetime. It's no wonder that this thing with that girl whose name he doesn't even remember has pushed him into a big freak out.

"Man, I never want to leave this place again," Jim hears. His vision's blurred now but he knows his bridge crew, hazy faces or not.

"You're saying that now but wait until you wake up tomorrow, kiddo," Bones grumbles. Definitely getting into his usual drunken spirit.

"Russians have very strong tolerance, Doctor McCoy," Chekov says, nay, yells proudly. His expression is stuck in a stupid smile as he waves around, Jim guesses, a bottle of vodka. Jim squints because he thinks he sees Sulu wrapped around Chekov but that's impossible because those two are even worse than him  
and Spock when they fight.

"Hey, have you guys seen Nyota? We're supposed to have girl time every time my face starts getting oily and crap but I can't find her anywhere and I'm really freaking out because she's the only one who can help me out of my misery." Wow, Carol talks a lot when she's drunk.

"You look good enough to eat, darling." Jim can't help but laugh. He knows that Bones has a thing for blondes, knows that Bones took one look at Carol and thought _that is one fine woman_ , knows that Bones wasn't really kidding when he asked Carol what his legendary hands could do for her.

"Oh, Leonard. I'm not going to fall for you Southern charms," Carol says, forgetting momentarily about finding Uhura and taking a seat between Jim and Bones.

"Get a room, guys!" Sulu whines, all the while nuzzling Chekov's hair like it's no big deal.

"I could say the same to you too," Bones grunts under his breath.

"Bones, you're too grumpy! Loosen up! This is what alcohol's for, man," Jim interjects, reaching across Carol and clumsily hitting Bones on the chest.

"Says the one who's been sulking all night." Bones listens, though, and rests an arm on Carol's shoulders, casual yet meaningful. No one misses the smile that finds its way to her face. "Why don't you just find some sweet young thing to deflower already?"

"Well the ladies here just don't... appeal to me, ya know?"

"You're fucking with me. Everything appeals to you. Remember that time when I came home only to find you in bed with a three-headed whatever the hell it was? You could have at least warned me, Jim!"

"He had expandable necks, Bones!" Jim downs more shots after that, showing them exactly what Bones accused him of. He is sulking.

"You know, if you're gonna be like that, you should just sleep instead," Bones says after a while. Jim doesn't reply, resorting instead to the harshest glare he can manage. He wavers, though, when he notices the absence of two very racy men. He squints because, what the hell, maybe they're there and he just can't see them.

"Where did Sulu and Chekov go?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Bones asks him, an eyebrow raised. He runs his hand through Carol's hair when she leans further into him.

"Nope," Jim replies, emphasizing the 'p'. "Don't you wanna follow them?"

"Not 'til you get back to your room, kiddo," Bones says firmly.

"We can wait," Carol agrees, smiling kindly.

"Damn it," Jim mutters. "All right, already! I'll go. Happy now?"

"Very." Jim can tell Bones is telling the truth. Damn that smug smile of his.

Jim stands up from his seat, banging his shot glass on the bar top. He's staggering, even though he will never admit it, ever. He can barely see straight, much less walk straight. After maybe five minutes of trying and the two lovebirds giggling in the background, Bones finally steadies him. "Don't worry, Jimmy, I commed Spock to get your sorry ass."

"What?" Panic rises, clouds Jim's vision and turns it red. "Bones, what the hell?"

"Well, I'm not gonna haul your ass all the way to your quarters."

Jim knows he should be mad at Bones but, really, he's more worried because _Spock_ , because it's going to be so embarrassing to have Spock take him back to their quarters because he doesn't have much control over what comes out of his mouth right now, whether it be words or vomit.

"Captain." Jim turns and sees the outline of regulation black undershirt and pants, faintly pointed ears, and the gentle slope of a nose. He doesn't speak or, at least, he hopes he doesn't.

Jim can hear Spock thanking Bones and bidding Carol a good night as his arm is brought around his first officer's shoulders. Spock's hand is on the small of his back, urging him forward. Jim's proud to say they make it halfway to their quarters when he starts babbling.

"You smell really good. D'you use cologne or something?"

"I do not."

"Are you sure? 'Cause I don't even think it's legal to smell like this."

"As I have said, Captain, I do not."

Jim should stop at it. Really. He could blame it on the alcohol and have some semblance of dignity left. But no, he just has to open his fucking mouth again.

"I could smell you all day. Can I smell you all day?"

Spock ignores him, and with good reason. He's probably tired of listening to his crap by now.

"Spock," Jim whines, wiggling his torso and leaning closer to Spock. As if that's a good idea. "I wish I could wake up every single fucking day and just smell this. You know what I mean?"

"Captain, you are drunk." Of course Spock doesn't think he means it. Thank god for Vulcans and their tendency to look for logical answers, not sentimentality and emotion. Thank god Spock doesn't see how painfully true his stupid drunk talk is.

Maybe that's what encourages Jim to talk more, because he's a stubborn one and if he wants to tell Spock all his heart's desires, then goddamn it, he is going to do it. "Actually, I can lose my sense of smell for all I care. I just—I just want _you_ , you know? And I wanna see you and touch you and taste you and I want to put my ear over your heart and,” Jim hiccups, “I won’t just _feel_ it beating. I'll hear it and then I'll know something about you that not a lot of people do. That you have a heart, and what it sounds like when you're not yet in your uniform as Commander Spock or my Chief Science Officer or,” Jim gulps, his vision getting hazier by the second, “or my First Officer. You're just Spock and the first thing we're going to wake up to is each other and all that there is in that moment is that I'm yours and you're mine."

Jim doesn't get the chance to see if Spock responds to that because they're already in their quarters. He dives into his bed and it's lights out with him smiling like an idiot because he's totally going to forget this tomorrow, right? Right.

 

***

 

Wrong. So horribly, shamefully, and severely wrong that Jim only manages one expletive when he wakes up.

"Fuck," he mutters, though it probably comes out as a groan. His head is pounding and for a moment, all he can think of is _goddamn it, I need some Aspirin,_ until everything comes crashing down on him and then his head is bombarded with curses.

"Jim, you are awake." Jim's grogginess leaves him entirely when he hears Spock. He can feel his eyes widening and his face paling when he actually sees Spock with his head tilted, concern in his eyes and a glass of water in his hand.

"Uh." Jim swallows the bile in his throat, racking his brain for something to say but coming up with nothing because fuck, last night was as good as a confession. "I gotta go?"

Jim scrambles from the bed and takes the glass of water without either touching or making eye contact with Spock. It's all very awkward and Jim just feels more compelled to run all the way to Bones' room. He doesn't care if he and Carol are butt-naked in there or if they're having fucking morning sex; he needs time to cry over his apparent man crush on with best friend.

"Bones, open the door!" Jim realizes he might be waking up the people next door. He only feels guilty about it for one second. "Bones, come on! You know I won't quit."

He hears a flurry of curses followed by shuffling from the other side of the door and smiles, smug. It takes a while for Bones to open the door, probably getting dressed and giving Carol the chance to make herself look pretty. "It's seven in the goddamn morning, Jim. What the hell are you doing banging at my door?"

Bones actually looks mad. Jim just thinks it's cute. He looks like a dog who's trying hard to look all rabid when really, he's just adorable. "Bones, I'm in trouble."

"What?" Jim pushes past him and makes a beeline for a plush armchair, slumping there and giving Carol a rather miserable wave. "But I saw you walk out of there with Spock!"

Jim only glares at Bones. He does want to admit anything out loud. Apparently, he doesn't have to because Bones' face lights up like a fucking Vegas hotel. "You hit on Spock?"

His grunt is enough of a yes to get Bones laughing. At least Carol has the decency to cover her mouth to muffle her giggles. "It's not funny."

"Of course it is, man!"

"Is this really the first time this has happened?" Carol asks in between chuckles. She's starting to turn red but it all just kind of suits her and it only makes Jim more miserable.

"What? Why the hell would you ask that?" Jim asks, incredulous.

"I mean, remember when we first met and Spock was against me coming aboard? I thought you guys were in a relationship that's all fucking and no defining except you're both into each other and also, idiots." Jim's jaw has slackened at this point. Bones is laughing even harder than before. "And then when Spock and Nyota broke things off, things just got worse. For a while then, I actually thought Nyota found out you two were having an affair or something. Frankly, the moment she told me I was wrong was the most confusing moment of my life."

"Um," is all Jim manages to say, dumbfounded. Carol rolls her eyes.

"I mean, it's cute how you're getting all flustered but if I noticed the way you and Spock are with each other, I'm sure others have too. Leonard, dear, back me up on this."

"As painful this is for me to say, I have to agree with Carol." Jim's almost convinced by his mock-serious face.

"You're only saying that because she gives you sex and all I am is your miserable hypospray guinea pig," Jim wails, pouting. He receives a pillow in the face for that.

Bones chuckles again but Jim can feel the shift in his mood. He's serious and now's probably the best time to listen. "Look, all kidding aside, you haven't barged into my medical bay screaming about how you can't sleep with your crew and how you miss the ladies in _months_."

"I was busy!" Jim defends, taking his frustration out on the pillow in his hands.

"No, Jim. God knows how many times you've bothered me, polluting my poor soul with your escapades whenever you have free time. Instead, I hear all from you is _Spock and I did this, Spock and I did that._ It was hard to tolerate."

"Jealous?" Jim attempts, but it's half-hearted.

"What did you say, anyway?" Carol asks, definitely intrigued. Jim groans, knowing that if he tells her then the whole crew plus some Ardanans will probably know by tomorrow. It's not that Carol's a big gossip but she's gonna tell Uhura and then Sulu and Chekov will be discreetly listening and then that's the end of his privacy. Still, he really needs to tell someone or else he'll stay feeling like he's got the whole world on his shoulders.

"I don't know. Something about his smell, how nice it is and possibly waking up to it?" Jim buries his face in the pillow because, god, this is really embarrassing.

"Oh, man." Bones is having the time of his life, Jim thinks, sulking. "Now I get why you're so pathetic. You weren't even flirting with him and making innuendos; you went all romantic and straight from the heart!"

"Fuck you, Bones!"

"C'mon, kid. At least it's out there. Don't even think of telling Spock that everything you said was crap because either you two are gonna end up together or he's gonna make sure your working relationship's still intact if he rejects you," Bones says. He knows when he can laugh and when Jim's had enough.

"Fine," Jim grumbles. Waiting for Spock to make a move. He can do that. Right? Right.

 

***

 

Jim spends the rest of the day nodding to Bones and Carol's jokes and concerned questions. He avoids Spock like it's an art and takes to following Bones around while Carol has girl time with Uhura. They end up hanging out with Sulu and Chekov, who are more concerned about the reason why Jim's fucking desolate than whether or not they should be taking meds for their hangovers. Bones shoos them away to find Carol and Uhura, not interested in gossiping.

After that, Bones gives up on social interaction and whips up two PADDs. Jim's sure that Bones is reading some medical shit that's full of jargon but he's too tired to do anything related to work so he plays game after game until he settles on clueless crossword.

"Hey, it's almost time for the party," Bones says, getting up from his bed and stretching. Jim scrunches his nose and quickly finishes his game.

"Alcohol, finally!" he exclaims. "Bones, can I borrow a shirt?"

"Fine," Bones mutters, throwing him a clean white shirt. They get dressed hastily, eager for their last night of drinks and shamelessness.

When they arrive in the function hall, they go straight to the bar. They have a few shots together, silence the only thing between them. Bones cheers up considerably when Carol arrives with Uhura, Scotty, Sulu, and Chekov, all dressed up.

"You know what we need to do?" Uhura says after her first Cardassian Sunrise. "We need to dance."

Everyone except Jim rises up in a whirl of agreement, even Bones when Carol shoots him a glare. Uhura smiles at him, encouraging. Jim avoids her eyes, trying not to think that she's being nice because he made a fool of himself last night. "Come on, Jim. I'll even dance with you."

"Hey!" Scotty possessively wraps an arm around Nyota but he's only kidding, proven by the huge smile on his face.

"Now that you're unavailable, you're suddenly into me," Jim jokes. "Women."

They all take that as a yes, collectively standing up and heading to the dance floor. Jim does end up dancing with Nyota for a while and it's all just fun and friendly until Scotty cuts in regretfully, claiming to miss his pretty lassie. Jim graciously gives him Nyota's hand and wanders back to the bar. He nods at the bartender, who’s seen him enough to know what he drinks. Jim taps his fingers to the music as he waits, watching the people around him until he gets dizzy from all the flashing lights.

"I take it you're enjoying the party now?"

Jim's eyebrows rise when the brunette from yesterday slides into the seat next to him. "Not really, but it’s an improvement from last night," he admits, chuckling. "Vanna, right?"

"You are correct," she replies, coy smile in place.

"Uh. I'm sorry about last night. I was... confused." Jim offers her a smile of his own.

"Oh I'm sure you can find a way to make it up to me, Captain." Vanna moves her hand along Jim's back, slowly from the small of his back to his neck. Jim isn't sure what to do, torn between what he wants and what he thinks can help him forget. He licks his lips, nervous as she plays with his hair, pulling and kneading.

"Please? I'll make it worth your while." Vanna's practically purring by now but Jim just feels uncomfortable.

"I'm really sorry. You're very beautiful, Vanna, but I'm not interested," he says, gently taking her hand and placing it on her lap. He expects a tantrum, or maybe a walk out complete with expletives directed at him and _I can do better anyway_ rants. Instead, Vanna throws her head back and laughs.

"Your reputation precedes you, Captain," she says. Her smile is friendlier now, like it has lost its fire. "I apologize for the way I acted. I believed it a necessity."

"Excuse me?" Jim's alert now, realizing that this woman's more than she previously let on.

"Perhaps we can talk in a more private setting, Captain?" Vanna's tone is teasing. "I promise I won't hit on you anymore."

Jim's wary but he nods, standing up and leading the way outside. He can take her to his quarters. He doesn't trust her, and that way, he'll have Spock as back up. He listens carefully to Vanna's footsteps, counts her breathing, takes note of every little noise as a precaution. They're only a few steps away from his quarters when he hears Vanna's breaths quicken, coming out ragged. He tenses, turns around just in time to see her raise a pointed black weapon, one carved from a rock, possibly from the mines below.

"Spock!" he calls, stepping back to avoid her swing. Her determination makes her dangerous, but it also makes her sloppy enough to be predictable. Jim is able to deflect her attempts but he can't overpower her when she's moving this fast.

He curses when the weapon grazes him, his heart skipping a beat in a stroke of distress. "Spock!" he shouts once more, unsure how long he can keep this up.

"Captain." Vanna sways on her feet, an arm around her shoulders the only thing keeping her upright. Relief floods Jim when he sees Spock with a mix of concern and strained acquiescence swimming in his features. Thank god for the Almighty Vulcan Death Grip. "Who is she?"

"Um. Vanna? Thanks, by the way." Jim wipes away the sweat on his forehead and nods towards their room. "We should find somewhere for her to lie down."

He helps Spock carry her to the bed and takes the phasers out just in case she's extra feisty when she wakes up. "I met her last night. I guess all this time she's been trying to kill me or something."

Jim ignores Spock's raised eyebrow. "Do you know anything about her?"

"No. She only told me her name," Jim answers, apologetic. "Well, she did say she had something to tell me but maybe that was just a ploy to isolate me."

"It is possible that she was only trying to subdue you," Spock says, his gaze calculating.

"To kidnap me?" Jim snorts. "Not much better."

"But significantly possible," Spock says, his head tilting minutely.

Jim agrees. "Why would she want to kidnap me, though? The city-dwellers don't seem to care for anything that they don't already have."

"Unless she is not from Stratos."

Jim and Spock share a look. "Have you talked to Droxine yet?"

Spock turns away, taking one of the phasers and cautiously sitting down by the bed. "I have. She told me that there has been a movement against the Stratos dwellers organized by the Troglytes. It has mostly to do with destroying works of art using implements." Spock gestures to the black weapon Vanna used, now safely away from her reach. "She assured me that it was of no importance."

"Well, I guess we have the pleasure of breaking the news," Jim groans, feeling dread and weariness seep into his every breath, "that the Troglytes have decided to take it up a notch."

Spock nods, his eyes grim. "Indeed."

 

***

 

Jim and Spock enter the High Adviser's private room, an indignant Vanna in tow. Plasus is pacing frantically as he waves away the sentinels. Droxine is seated on his chair, going from passive to surprised to confused as the trio enters the room.

"Vanna?" Droxine stands up, her stare shifting from Vanna to Spock, from worry to disbelief. "Why is she in restraints?"

"Well, simple really, she tried to attack me last night," Jim offers casually.

Droxine goes to Vanna, takes her hand. "Why would you do that?"

"She's a disrupter, that's why," Plasus all but hisses. "I should never have let the Troglytes into this city."

"What?" Droxine looks devastated, defeated. "Vanna, is this true?"

Vanna spits in her face, sending everyone in a fuss to separate them. Droxine's shock is evident in the expression on her face and in the way her whole body's shaking. Spock assists her to a chair while Jim places himself in front of Vanna, gauging Plasus' reaction. She may be rude but maybe she has good reason. Jim doesn't even know the whole story.

"What exactly do the disrupters want?" Jim says, his voice hard and unwavering.

"They wish to live in Stratos, to dwell with minds like ours, with intelligence and grace out of their reach. It's preposterous," Plasus answers. "It is likely that they wanted to kidnap you, hold you for ransom."

"Were they not the ones who built Stratos?" Spock says, taking his place next to Jim. "It is only logical that they profit from their own work."

"They won't fit in, Commander Spock. They won't understand what it means to live in Stratos, what they must do, what they should or should not prefer. Their minds are beneath ours, too simple. They are workers through and through."

"From what I can understand, High Adviser, Vanna is a Troglyte and yet she seems as smart and learned as you are," Jim says, crossing his arms.

"That is because she was trained here. I handpicked Troglytes myself, let them into my threshold to become messengers and council representatives." Plasus laughs bitterly. "But it seems that even years of training have done nothing for her."

Jim frowns. "What are you planning? I mean, they seem more determined now."

"I'll find out what they're planning, simple as that."

"How do you intend to... find out?" Spock asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Vanna will tell me, of course." Plasus calls in the sentinels and tells them to take Vanna to the ray. It all sounds mysterious and meaningful plus it sends a dash of surprise and alarm on their faces so Jim shoots Spock a look.

The sentinels lead the way through the halls, Vanna in between them. Just behind them is Plasus, followed by a reluctant and desolate Droxine. Jim and Spock are far in the back, wary and vigilant. They finally stop when they reach an open area, extended from the first level so that it can be seen from any floor. There is a ray right in the middle of it, with a divan-like structure placed across it. Vanna tries to fight but the sentinels manage to strap her to the platform.

"What are you going to do to her?" Jim asks. He tries to get near either Vanna or the ray but the sentinels stop him.

"I just thought that this might help in persuading her to give us answers," Plasus replies.

"Do you intend to torture her?" Spock says, lips turned down in a slight frown.

"I prefer not to refer to it as torture, Commander Spock." Plasus readies the ray, tinkering with its controls, probably setting it to maximum. "Perhaps coercion, but never torture."

"Then this ray will not hurt her?"

"The ray sends impulses to the brain so that she will only be hurt mentally, not physically." Plasus sounds unbelievably calm and it only pisses off Jim.

"I hate to break it to you, High Adviser," Jim says his title with venom, hoping to god Plasus hears it, "but that is torture."

"I will handle this as I see fit, Captain," Plasus says. He presses a button on the controls and a red beam streams into Vanna's head and soon after, she's screaming, wailing in the midst of her agony. It's brief, thank god, but it still sends a startling jolt through Jim.

"Stop that!" Jim struggles against the sentinels' hold. "I will not watch you torturing someone, whether or not she's against you!"

"I must concur with the Captain," Spock says, his gaze hard. "This is unethical, High Adviser. I hardly think it is a method appropriate for your supposed intelligence."

"But it is apt for a mind like hers," Plasus counters. "It cannot accept logical arguments, therefore these measures must be made. Maybe it’ll even excite her brain cells a bit, help her out of her incompetence."

"This is against everything Starfleet believes in." Jim disentangles himself from the guards, stepping back. Spock places a hand on his shoulder in support. "I will have to file a report about this."

This is too much for Plasus, apparently, who sends another shock through Vanna. His face is red in his anger, his movements are frantic, and his voice is quaking when he speaks. “How dare you threaten me, Kirk! Get out. Get out! You are banned from Ardana--all of you. If you even try to step foot on this land ever again, the sentinels will not hesitate to kill you."

Jim does not stand down at first, determined to take care of this mess right now, but Spock's hand tightens on his shoulder and he knows that this is enough for now. They have to go.

"Enterprise," he says once he takes his communicator out. "Come in, Enterprise."

"Captain," someone replies. Jim recognizes him as one of the ensigns in gamma shift.

"Notify the crewmembers for immediate beam up. Also, Spock and I are going ahead. We're not welcome in Ardana anymore."

"Aye, sir," the ensign replies, sounding unsure. Still, he does his job, and quickly too, because in no time Scotty's already telling them that the transporters are ready.

"Two to beam up."

 

***

 

Jim watches as the senior officers and some selected crewmen file into the ready room. They all look professional as ever but he can still see the confusion in some of them.

"I'm sorry to have called for you so abruptly but we have a problem." Jim nods at Spock.

"As you have read in the briefing," Spock starts. "The Troglytes comprise the worker class of Stratos. At present, they work on the surface, mining zenite. The High Adviser claims that their minds are less evolved than those of the city-dwellers, however this does not remove from them the concept of equality. Some of the Troglytes have come together to form the disrupters who wish to live in Stratos, alongside the city-dwellers. They see it as their right, not only as Ardanans but also as the people who built Stratos.

"They started with infiltrating Stratos and destroying works of art but as of last night, they have decided to up the stakes, as humans say. Vanna, one of the disrupters, attempted to kidnap the Captain."

"Now, before you go forming opinions," Jim says, seeing the looks on his officers' faces. "You have to listen to the whole story."

"When we confronted the High Adviser concerning the issue," Spock continues, "it became apparent that the Council had no plans to allow the Troglytes their wish. Then, he proceeded to use a ray to torture Vanna, sending shocks to her brain to make her feel intense pain."

"Mr. Spock and I tried to intervene but the High Adviser banned us from Ardana. Now, we were thinking of filing a report so that the Federation Bureau of Industrialization can deal with it but there's something that bothers us. This whole notion that Troglytes are lesser minds? We think there's something more to it so Bones, I want you to take a look at that."

Bones nods, without complaint, for once.

"Since the High Adviser only banned us from stepping foot on Stratos, we assume that we are still allowed to orbit it which is exactly what we will do while we wait for the results of the Doctor's research," Spock adds.

"Any questions?" When no one speaks up, Jim smiles tiredly. "Then that's all for now. Dismissed."

"Captain, perhaps you should take this time to rest," Spock says once the others have left.

"I will," Jim assures his first officer. "But you should too."

Spock's reply is the upturn of his lips into a small smile and it's the closest thing to an agreement Jim is going to get so he lets it go. He stands up and leads the way to the bridge.

"Ensign Chekov, get ready for a ship wide announcement." Jim slides into his chair with ease. He presses the comm and starts, "This is Captain James T. Kirk. While I'm sorry for the abrupt beam up, I'd like to welcome you back to the ship. Ensign Chekov will explain our predicament in detail."

"Ensign." Jim signals for Chekov to start. Jim stands up and approaches the science station. "Lieutenant Sulu, you have the conn. Spock, am I right in assuming that you're coming with me?"

Spock raises his eyebrow but stands up anyway, quelling Jim's worries that he will work himself to exhaustion. "Indeed."

Jim laughs and they go into the turbolift. "I thought you were going to make me work for it," he says, pressing the button for the senior officers' quarters.

"That would be illogical," Spock says and Jim laughs again because it only feels like a formality.

"Wanna play chess?" Jim asks, smiling. He doesn’t want to go to sleep yet, not with the issue of the disrupters ticking obnoxiously at the back of his mind, and chess with Spock is probably the only way he won’t end up ripping his own hair out in frustration.

"Affirmative, Captain," Spock says, tilting his head. "I will go to your quarters after I change."

"Sounds good to me." They exit the lift and Jim gives Spock a little wave before they separate.

"See ya."

Jim doesn't miss the amusement in Spock's eyes. "Affirmative, Jim."

 

***

 

It has been three days and Jim has to work hard to stop himself from barging into the Medical Bay, shaking the hell out of Bones, and asking him what he's found out. He has tried once, minus the shaking because that's basically suicide for him, and it didn't end well. He can still hear Bones shouting _goddamnit Jim, I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker!_ And suddenly, he found himself banned from the medbay, just when he actually wanted to be there.

So for the past three days, Jim has taken to spending his free time with Spock, from chess to sparring to paperwork, all under the guise of being together whenever Bones decides to grace them with his well-researched results. Right now, Jim and Spock are in the officers' mess after a terribly boring shift.

"I still say you cheated last night," Jim says, picking at his food and scrunching his nose in distaste as he gathers all the vegetables.

"If anyone was cheating, Jim, it was you." Spock eyes Jim's plate in amusement.

"No, you're just too ruthless when it comes to chess. A few more losses and you'll make me cry." Jim sticks his tongue at his first officer. He catches Spock's gaze though, so he pushes his plate towards him. "Want them?"

Spock looks almost excited as he takes food off of Jim's plate. "I do not understand why you must treat vegetables with such repulsion."

"They taste icky and feel weird in my mouth," Jim says, faking a retching sound.

"I could say the same for meat," Spock replies, scrutinizing the steak on Jim's plate.

"Well, you're sure missing out on a lot," Jim grumbles.

"Can I interrupt your moment? Because I've got some results now." Bones seats himself beside Jim and glares at Spock.

"Aw, don't be like that, Bones. It's not like our moment’s gonna end just because you're here," Jim says sweetly. He laughs, though, unable to stifle the urge.

"Yeah, I didn't think so." Now, Bones is glaring at Jim too. "Okay, when do you wanna hear about it?"

"My ready room in an hour," Jim decides. He doesn't lose his smile, though, which makes Bones mumble to himself about goddamned idiots and goddamned captains. Jim thinks he hears something about a pointy-eared hobgoblin somewhere in there but he can't be too sure.

"Bones is too easy a target," he says smugly, watching the doctor stomp away from them.

"Indeed." Jim raises his eyebrows at this, not expecting Spock to agree so openly. "I regret not adding to his torment."

Jim lets out an honest to god belly laugh. "You are so dead when Bones hears about this."

"Will he?" Spock pauses. "Hear about this, I mean?"

Jim narrows his eyes at his first officer. Damn. "Okay, no. Nice to know you're on my side when it comes to Bones, Spocky."

"I will pretend you did not call me that," Spock says. Jim swears he eats those vegetables with so much attitude that it can make a Klingon cry.

"Pretend all you want, sweetheart."

Spock looks exasperated when he replies. "Must you resort to name calling?"

Jim huffs. "It's not name calling if I have good intentions."

"Good intentions, Jim? I would disagree."

"Disagree all you want, Spock. I am unstoppable!"

Spock smiles. "I look forward to winning our next game of chess, Captain."

"Damn it."

 

***

 

Jim makes a show of ignoring Spock. Ultimately, though, he ends up laughing at the Vulcan's distraught face. They make up, much to Spock's relief, and discuss Ardanan culture all the way to the ready room. Bones walks in on the middle of it, carrying a PADD in one hand and a black box in another.

"It is kind of fitting that Stratos is high above the sky. I can see why the city-dwellers have developed their kind of thinking," Jim is saying.

"Ain't I gonna get a warm welcome in here?" Bones says before Spock can reply. "I just sent you the documents."

They pick up their PADDs and skim through the report, their faces becoming increasingly stricken.

"The zenite," Jim says, testing the word on his tongue. "Huh."

"It is a most curious explanation, also extremely reasonable," Spock agrees.

"When I looked at the records, I found out that the Troglytes' intelligence quotients really are lower than the city-dwellers. Now that woulda been fine with me but then I remembered that the city-dwellers evolved from the Troglytes not too long ago. So I thought either there's something in the city, or there's something in the mines. Now, we all know which."

"But zenite is Ardana's main export. It is shipped to many Federation worlds. How did we not notice this before?" A crease forms in between Spock's eyebrows, showing his frustration and confusion.

"Ardana exports only refined zenite. No one knows what to do with it better than the Ardanans so all the magic happens on that planet," Bones explains. "Besides, the effects of the zenite aren't lasting. Anyone exposed to it probably thought they were havin' a bad day or something."

"So how do we do this?" Jim asks, crossing his arms and leaning back against his chair.

"Masks," Spock murmurs, understanding in his eyes as he looks at the box Bones brought in.

"Hate to say this but the hobgoblin's right." Jim leans forward when Bones opens the box. Inside is a dark gray mask, large enough to cover both the mouth and the nose. "Modified for the Troglyte physique. They wear this and they'll be up to par with those Stratos bastards in no time."

"It will be difficult to convince them. If I am correct, I do not think the Troglytes will take kindly to the suggestion that zenite causes their retardation," Spock says.

"But we have to try." Jim presses the heel of his hand against his eyes. "It's not like the High Council is going to do anything about it."

"It will be less difficult if we isolate one of them," Spock says.

"What about Vanna?" Jim's eyes widen, a plan already forming in his mind.

"Captain, she is a captive of Plasus. Choosing her is risky."

"But she already knows us. Plus, she hasn't been exposed to the zenite for a while now."

Spock purses his lips, seeing Jim's point. "I will come with you."

"Spock," Jim whines.

"Captain." Spock raises an eyebrow in challenge. "I will come with you."

"Okay, okay," Jim relents. "But we're following my plan."

Spock's lips turn up in a smile and Jim can tell it’s his _this human actually thinks he's the boss_ smile. It's kind of depressing how he has seen it so many times that he can recognize it easily now.

"Okay, you can help a _little_."

Bones has the audacity to laugh at him. Wow. "What's your big plan anyway?"

"Well since I'm pretty sure Vanna thinks I'm easy, I can pretend to get kidnapped," Jim starts casually because yes, he gets kidnapped so often that it's not an issue to bring it up in conversation. For example: _oh yeah, I got kidnapped again, nope the natives were pretty nice this time_.

"The purpose of which is?" Jim can feel scepticism radiating off of Spock and so he sticks his tongue out at his first officer.

"Well I'm going to take her down to the mines to give her a little demonstration. If she doesn't kidnap me then great, we're done. If she does, though--and you'll know because I'll be checking in every ten minutes--or if she doesn't but she's not into our idea, you're going to get Plasus and beam him down to the mines too. Then, somehow, I'm gonna make them dig so that they can experience first-hand what we want to tell them. Easy peasy." Jim grins and doesn't stop grinning even after a whole minute of Spock and Bones just staring at him, either trying to decide if he's serious or forcing his idea to sink in.

"What the hell, Jim?"

"Captain, your plan not only puts you at risk, but also Ardana as a member of Starfleet. There is no doubt that the High Adviser will take offense in being forced to do physical work."

"Yes, but I can also file a complaint against him for not only threatening a whole crew of Starfleet officers, but also for torturing Vanna. There's no way he'll push through with a report. Besides, my plan is great!"

Jim stifles a groan when he's met with silence.

"Come on, guys. Trust me! I'll have my communicator on me at all times plus Spock, you can beam us up whenever you see fit. Is that enough of a compromise?"

Jim holds his breath. His heart is pounding in his chest and for some reason, he feels nervous. When Spock's jaw shifts and relaxes, Jim's so relieved he could cry. He doesn't, of course, preserving his dignity as a captain.

"It will be enough," Spock says finally.

"Awesome," Jim exclaims, beaming. "This is going to be so cool!"

 

***

 

"The coordinates are in, Sir."

Jim meets Spock's eyes and nods. Their plan is going to work. Right? Right. "Energize."

They appear in a cell, a rather warm and comfy one too, with real flowers by the bedside no less. Vanna lies on the bed, unaware of them. Jim gestures towards the door and Spock practically glides towards it, keeping his back to the wall and his eyes outside the cell. Meanwhile, Jim sits on the bed, careful not to surprise Vanna.

"Vanna. Wake up, Vanna," he whispers, shaking her shoulder gently. Her eyes open gently and she's disoriented at first, unsure of where she is, but then she sees Jim and her mouth opens in a silent scream, her voice unfound in her sleepy haze.

"I'm here to get you out of here," Jim says gently, seeing the hostility in her eyes. "We have something to explain to you. We can help you get what you want."

Vanna's eyes are wide, skeptical. "That is impossible."

"But it's true! Look, if you take me to the mines, I can show you. What's the harm, right?"

Her eyebrows furrow together and her lips form a thin line as she struggles with the suggestion. "I suppose," she says slowly. "I will be the one leading you?"

"Of course," Jim assures her.

"All right." Vanna stands up, quickly now that her senses have been regained. Jim takes out his communicator and hails Scotty.

"We're ready," Jim says.

"Aye, Captain. Beaming up the Commander in ten seconds."

"Proceed."

Jim looks at Spock, about to give him a thumbs up, but then he sees the look in his eyes, like there's something he wants to say except he can't.

"Spock, are you--" Jim doesn't get to finish asking because he's stunned into silence when Spock extends his hand for a Vulcan kiss.

"Captain," Spock murmurs, and Jim can hear the feeling behind it. He returns the kiss and it all feels so dreamlike, to be doing this, to finally confirm that all that apparent flirting, all that time spent together isn't just because of work, it's because he means something to Spock. And maybe, it's the same way he sees Spock.

_Be careful,_ Spock seems to say. _I will,_ Jim thinks, repeating it over and over until Spock disappears completely, safe on the Enterprise.

"You'll be down on the surface in another ten, Captain," Scotty says, pulling Jim away from his thoughts.

"Good work, Scotty."

Jim's voice is low and the way he speaks shows his disorientation, his flustered state. He takes a deep breath, collecting himself, and releases it once he's on the surface with the wind biting against his skin and the sand stinging his eyes. Everything is a dull, deep beige and it's obvious no one comes out here much. It's worse than he expected and a shock compared to Stratos.

"Follow me," Vanna says. She leads the way into a mine entrance, hidden in the rocks. Jim takes out the mask and puts one on quietly, careful not to alert Vanna.

"What do you need for your demonstration?" she asks.

"Just this mask and the mines," Jim answers, ducking his head when the ceiling's too low. Vanna raises an eyebrow at the sight of the mask, curious, but she doesn't ask. She nods and when Jim can stand up straight again, they arrive in a mining area. Three Troglyte men sit on the ground, resting and replenishing themselves.

"Vanna, you have captured the human?" one of them asks. They stand up, alert as they give Jim a once-over, probably thinking of different ways to kill him based on the looks on their faces.

"Indeed," Vanna says, keeping her expression cool. "Go to the others. You must tell them."

Two of the Troglytes nod and leave while one stays. He's glaring at Vanna, his face slowly getting redder and redder with rage.

"Just because you caught the human does not mean you can act like you're better than us," he says hotly. "You cannot order us around as you please."

"I can assure you, that was not my intention. I only do what's best for us, you know that." Vanna holds his gaze, unwavering. The Troglyte purses his lips, still unsure, but he nods anyway. He leaves, but not without a wary glance back.

"Explain," Vanna demands as soon as the sound of his footsteps fade to a hush.

"The only thing you really need is this mask," Jim starts. "Plasus was right when he said their minds are different from yours but there is a reason why."

"What do you mean?" Vanna's eyes are narrowed, critical.

"The zenite, it does things to your brain. The reason why those in Stratos are different is because they aren't exposed to it anymore, unlike you. That's why you need this," Jim explains, pointing to his mask.

"That is impossible," Vanna exclaims. She turns away from him, hands on her hips. "I do not believe it."

"That's why I prepared a demonstration."

Vanna looks at Jim and in her eyes, he can see her doubt, her poorly veiled fear, her mind making itself up. When she attacks him, he's prepared, immediately taking his phaser out to stun her. He opens his communicator once he's tied Vanna's hands with a strip of cloth he rips from his shirt.

"Kirk to Spock," he says in between breaths. He wipes his forehead with his sleeve, closing his eyes in concentration as he pushes away thoughts of removing the mask to breathe better.

"Captain," his first officer responds, and Jim has to shake his thoughts away, of Spock, of his worries concerning the plan, of the risks he's taking--

"Captain," Spock repeats. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes. Yes, sorry." Jim inhales deeply. "Beam the High Adviser down here."

"Yes, Captain."

Jim bites his lip and, suppressing the urge to say something more, paces frantically as he waits for Plasus.

"Beaming down as requested in ten, Sir," Scotty says after a short while.

"Proceed." Jim composes himself and stands by a still sleeping Vanna. Plasus appears with a furious expression on his face, screaming obscenities and _what is going on?_

"High Adviser," Jim says, keeping his tone light just because he knows it'll piss off Plasus more. "Nice of you to join us."

"Kirk! This is kidnapping! I will not allow this." Plasus is seething, screaming everything he says. His veins are popping out, showing Jim just how enraged he is.

"Well, there's nothing you can do now." Jim smiles tightly. He gestures to Vanna. "Might as well help us out with a little demonstration."

"This is preposterous! If you think I'm going to just comply with your demands, then you are wrong."

"Let me remind you," Jim says, pointing his phaser at Plasus, "who has the upper hand here."

Plasus frowns but he knows he's defenseless. "What do you want me to do?"

"Wake her up." Jim steps back from Vanna to give them space. "Don't even think about hurting her."

Plasus kneels down beside her, glancing sharply at Jim before shaking her awake and calling her name distastefully. When Vanna wakes up, she is just as furious as Plasus, just as helpless with a phaser pointed at her. Their stares are icy when they look at Jim, which makes him relieved as much as nervous.

"Since you two seem to have reached a truce, I'm going to assume you can work together." Jim steps forward and gestures around the room. "Now, I want you to dig."

Plasus opens his mouth, about to speak, but then Jim smiles and shoots the wall behind them which, in retrospect, is probably a bad idea. "Phaser, remember?"

Their faces are grim but they obey, getting down on their knees to dig, slowly but surely with their bare hands, just as the Troglytes do. Jim keeps the phaser pointed at them, waiting and periodically checking in with the Enterprise. As much as he would like to banter with Uhura or Spock, he can't afford to get distracted, not as Plasus and Vanna expose themselves to the zenite and not when the other Troglytes can walk in at any second.

After about half an hour of it, Jim starts to get impatient, jumpy. It reaches the point where he's actually thinking about trying his hand at digging just for something to do. Which is exactly why he feels that the sliver of relief that spreads in his chest when Plasus stands up, angrily throwing his hands in the air, is justified.

"I will not continue to subject myself to this--this degrading work!" he shouts. He takes Jim by surprise when he charges suddenly at him, knocking away both the phaser and the communicator, and tackling him to the ground. Plasus' anger gives him energy, leaving Jim without room to breathe. It's messy and difficult and he has to focus all his attention on where the High Adviser's limbs are because goddamn it, he's fast for his age.

Jim groans, cursing when Plasus manages to hit him right in the face and knee him in the groin in quick succession. God, he is not going to hear the end of this when Sulu, the most gossip-y fuck on the Enterprise, finds out he got schooled by an old man. He racks his brain for a plan because at this rate, he's going to be the hostage, not Plasus.

"Vanna, the zenite," is all he manages to say, all he can say while he's in a fight, so he hopes that she does realize that this is what zenite does to the Ardanans. This is why the Troglytes should wear masks. This is why city-dwellers are a lot smarter. This is why Jim was fucking telling the truth and shouldn't be in a fight to the death with the High Adviser of Stratos.

Fortunately, she does get it. Jim vaguely hears her scrambling to reach his communicator, hailing the Enterprise and screaming about how wrong she is, how right they are, and how Jim and Plasus are going to end up dead if they don't beam them up right now. Whoever receives the message takes it all in stride and responds quickly. In no time, Jim feels himself being pulled away from Plasus and held steady by a firm hand on his shoulder. It’s Spock, he realizes, taking in the blue shirt and the contrast of dark hair against pale white skin, without even a tinge of green right now.

"It is over," Spock says, taking Jim's mask off. He has never been so grateful as he catches his breath, gripping Spock's arm for support.

"How's our ship?" he asks as soon as he can form a sentence without going red in the face.

"Optimal, Captain." A small smile slips into Spock's features and Jim can't help a grin either.

"Plasus and Vanna?"

"Two security officers have taken the High Advisers to the Medical Bay after Doctor McCoy injected him with a sedative. Vanna was given a depressant, I believe. She was taken to her temporary quarters."

"Good. That's good." Jim resists the urge to hug Spock, seeing how inappropriate that would be. "I'm tired."

"I must accompany you to the Medical Bay as Doctor McCoy requested." Spock wraps an arm around his waist, supporting his weight.

"Bones made a request?" Jim laughs. "And I do _not_ need to go to that hellhole." He can't even focus on more than one thing at a time right now so he doesn't want to think of having Bones and his legion of nurses fussing over him and his vitals.

"I admit, he made it sound like an order. Illogical," Spock remarks. "Would you prefer I take you to your quarters?"

"Yep! I'll be back to normal after a good night's sleep," Jim assures him. They start walking through the halls, up to the Captain's room.

"I do not think you would say that when you see yourself in a mirror."

"That bad?"

"Affirmative. Although, it is nothing I cannot treat with a first aid kit."

"Bones is gonna have your head for not dragging me to medbay, you know."

"I am aware. However, I enjoy pushing his buttons as much as you do. Also, you spend too much time there as it is."

"I do," Jim agrees. "I'm surprised I'm still alive."

"It seems that luck does not leave your side, Captain."

Jim grimaces. "None of that Captain shit while you're taking me to bed."

Spock takes a while to respond. "Jim."

"You sound awkward," Jim comments, exhaustion muddling his tact. He pouts. "What I said sounded suggestive, didn't it?"

"Indeed." Spock's amusement is obvious even in his side profile. "It is of no consequence."

"I'd like it more if you do take me to bed in that way." Jim pauses. "I'm being inappropriate again. Sorry, babe."

"I have not yet agreed to pet names, as you humans call it," Spock says, raising an eyebrow.

"Bah, you love it anyway."

"Your confidence does not fade even after overexertion."

"Can't blame me for being irresistible."

"On the contrary, I can provide you with a list of crewmembers who would say otherwise."

"Well you can't blame them for overlooking my near-perfection in the face of actual perfection."

"Pardon?"

"The Enterprise, Spock! I can't believe you forgot her."

"Ah. I apologize, Jim."

"... I was talking about you, you pointy-eared bastard. I was trying to be all romantic and shit."

"Indeed?"

"Indeed. Now get me to my quarters faster so you can tuck me into bed and I can stop my sleepy talk."

"I am not sure I wish to comply. I find your sleepy talk entertaining."

"Goddamn it, I hope I forget this in the morning."

"Highly unlikely, Jim, for you are not inebriated."

"I know, you don't need to remind me, babe. Though I wouldn't mind if I got drunk on you."

Silence.

"That was a horrible line, wasn't it?"

"I would not go as far as describing it as horrible."

"You big softie!" Jim laughs, almost tripping on his feet when they enter his room.

"You must not yet sleep, Jim. I have yet to treat your injuries."

"But my eyes are so droopy and my face can handle being a wreck until tomorrow."

Jim swears he hears a sigh from Spock. "I will endeavor to treat you while you are asleep."

"Thanks babe."

The last thought that Jim has before falling asleep with a stupid smile on his face is _haha, babe, wonder what pet name Spock calls me when he thinks to himself._ After that, it's darkness, a weird dream with Scotty in a kilt, Spock in an ugly as fuck sweater and Bones with wings on his back and a halo above his head, and waking up to a warm bed and an even warmer Vulcan entangled with him.

Weird dream and looming mature, relationship-centred _what are we_ talk aside, he has a pretty good life right now, Jim concludes.  



	3. Chapter 3

  
Jim is disoriented the first time he wakes up, only aware of the comfortable warmth surrounding him and only thinking of how much he wants to stay here and never ever get up even for shore leave or aliens with expanding tentacles or a run-in slash firing brigade with the Klingons. He buries himself further into the heat, wrapping his arms around it, letting it take over his every thought until he's spiraling into sleep.

The second time he wakes, he hears the sound of a heart. It rings in his ears softly, and blends with the beat of his own heart. Jim smells incense and candles, the Vulcan ones he gave Spock for the crew's first Christmas in space. He smiles at the memory of Spock's face when he opened the present, the softness of his eyes and the curve of his lips. Jim remembers his heart fluttering in his chest and warmth spreading throughout his body. He has to smother the feeling of pride that rose in him because, come on, it wasn't everyday he got to see his first officer so _open._

When Jim opens his eyes, everything is in black and white: his sheets, his walls, the regulation black undershirt that paints Spock's body, his every muscle, every contour. Jim's eyes are drawn to the pale skin of Spock's neck, and the next thing he knows, his lips are on it, breathing softly on the warm skin, then sucking lightly on it. He doesn't think about what he is doing, just that it feels like what he should do.

"Jim," Spock murmurs, probably still in the grasp of sleep. It's adorable, he thinks, and elating to be seeing this for the very first time.

"Good morning," Jim says, cuddling closer to him. "Thanks for taking care of me. And for staying. I feel better now."

"It is of no consequence," Spock assures him, leaning into his touch. Jim presses another kiss to his nape before sitting up, pulling Spock with him.

"Spock." Jim slides his hands to his first officer's elbows and looks at him straight in the eyes. "I just--this all feels so natural but I'm scared that if I don't ask you now, I'll just freak out and start avoiding you."

Spock's eyes soften, fondness swimming in them. "Speak your mind, Jim."

"That was a Vulcan kiss, right? Back then?"

"You are correct."

"And you don't just give Vulcan kisses away, right? Because you're Vulcan and you're monogamous and you're not the kind of guy who puts out but doesn't go through with it?"

"Indeed."

"So I guess that means you like me? Sort of? I hope?"

"You are overthinking, Jim," he says, before wrapping a hand around the back of Jim's neck and pulling him closer until their lips crash together in a gentle, teasing kiss.

"Wait," Jim whispers when they break apart to take a breath. "This is a yes, right?"

"I do," Spock hesitates, "hold affection for you, yes."

Definitely a yes, Jim thinks just as he leans in for another kiss.

 

***

 

Jim and Spock act as they usually do, for the most part. Apparently, their longing stares at each other are commonplace, and so is their flirting. The only thing that's different is that instead of their too friendly and bordering on homoerotic touches, now it's just homoerotic. They try to lie low, of course, but apparently, Vulcans can't keep their hands off their partner for even one minute. And no, that isn't an exaggeration.

"God, if I knew this is what would happen, I would never have let you go down that planet, Jim," Bones grumbles during breakfast. They are supposed to be rushing through it because they have a meeting with Plasus and Vanna in an hour but Bones doesn't seem to care, stabbing his plate gloomily as he glares at Jim and Spock.

"Are we that obvious?" Jim's eyes dart around the mess worriedly, clutching Spock's arm.

"Jim, you're sitting so close to each other, you might as well be sitting on the hobgoblin's lap," Bones deadpans.

"Well, you can't blame me for wanting a piece of this." Jim kisses Spock's cheek, thinking, _to hell with it, they were gonna find out through Sulu anyway._

"Jesus, goddamn-- _Jim_."

"Bones."

"I know I've told you this before, but too much information, kiddo. Too much information."

"But Bones, there can never be too much information when it comes to Vulcans and sex."

"I don't fucking care if you can write a hundred reports about it, I don't wanna know about your escapades!"

"Sexcapades, Bones, I call them sexcapades." Jim is beaming, enjoying Bones' discomfort. Spock stays silent, amused enough by their banter to feel content with watching. "Besides, we're adorable."

"Tribbles are adorable, Jim, not you."

"Tribbles are furry little creatues that occassionally save my life or make it a living hell. They are not adorable."

"You know I still don't know why you hate them so much. I like them. Spock likes them too, and that's saying something."

"Nice subject change," Jim comments. Bones groans. "They're just so... adorable and shit. It's unnatural, man."

"It's not unnatural, it's in their goddamn anatomy."

"Still! I'd prefer to be calmed down by a person than by a purring tribble."

Bones grimaces. "And by 'a person' you mean Spock."

"Bones! You worked so hard to avoid that topic and now you're digging your own grave." Jim laughs. "You masochistic bastard."

"Nothing I coulda done about it anyway."

Jim finishes the last of his toast and glances at Spock, who has only been waiting for him for the last three minutes. He slaps Bones on the back, hard. "Hurry up, Bones. If you're early, I promise you that Spock and I won't be having sex on the ready room table."

Spock raises and eyebrow at this, speaking for the first time. "Indeed, as sexual intercourse while on duty and in uniform is against regulation."

"See? Spock's a total stickler for the rules," Jim says cheerily. "It's cute, really."

Bones sets his fork down forcefully, watching the two leave, arm in arm. Jim's a downright idiot and Spock turns into one when he's with the Captain so it's all so reasonable, really. Bones has seen this coming for a while now, and he can't help the fond smile that creeps its way onto his face at the sight of them, almost glowing in their happiness.

He shakes his head in disbelief, starting to wolf down his breakfast. "How did I end up in this ship full of idiots?"

 

***

 

Everyone's already settled in their own chair five minutes before the meeting. Even Bones is there, still grumbling, of course, but less so since he's reading some ancient article about cryogenics on his data PADD. Jim is tapping a stylus against the tabletop, bopping his head to the last song he heard in the mess which is now stuck in his head. They all look up from whatever they're doing when the door opens to reveal Plasus and Vanna, entering with the guidance of two security officers.

They take seats across Jim, right on the other side of the table. "Good morning," Vanna greets, smiling good-naturedly at everyone. Meanwhile, Plasus chooses to remain silent, nodding at them in acknowledgment.

"Alright, good morning, gentlemen. And lady," Jim starts. "Before we begin, I'd like to apologize for taking you both by surprise yesterday. It was my plan, and I take full responsibility for my actions."

"I think you deserve to know that I consider it all in the past now, Captain." Translation: we don't want to screw each other up so I call a truce, yeah? Jim can't say no to that.

"Thank you, High Adviser," he says, bowing his head respectfully. "So on your PADDs, there's a report that I have ready to send to the Federation Bureau of Industrialization. The Enterprise cannot stay any longer here and as much as we'd like to leave you to resolve your differences, the Federation can't take that risk because we need a strong and stable Ardana for the impending war. I wanted to get your approval first, though, before passing you over to the FBI. You're really okay with this?"

Plasus and Vanna exchange a wary look, but they nod. Jim smiles. Well, they are trying.

"After experiencing the effects myself, I cannot deny that the zenite impairs the Troglytes," Plasus admits. "I suppose some assistance will be welcome, especially in convincing the other council members and the Troglyte leaders."

"Great." Jim signs the last of the paperwork, sends them to Rand and sets down his PADD. "Do you have any questions? About how the FBI's going to handle this or something?"

Plasus and Vanna shake their heads. Jim claps his hands and leans forward, his elbows resting in the table. "Well, then I suppose that's it. My security officers will escort you to the transporter room. FBI will arrive within this week."

Plasus stands up and nods at Jim. There's a bit of guilt in his eyes when he speaks. "May I tempt you and your crew with another night on Stratos? As a peace offering, perhaps."

Jim's mood brightens at that. He looks at Spock hopefully and practically beams when his first officer gives his consent. "We'll be there, High Adviser. Thank you."

"I will anticipate it." He exits hurriedly and Jim is left even happier than when he entered his ready room a few minutes ago.

"Captain, I want to thank you for, well, everything. I'm sorry I ever doubted you," says Vanna, who's rooted to her seat, worried and sheepish.

Jim waves her off. "I'll forgive you if you send me pictures of you and your friends in masks, okay?"

"Yes, Captain. I promise they will be worth your while," she says, winking at Jim and chuckling. He lets out a surprised laugh, not expecting her to have recovered enough to be joking already.

"She is one fine woman," he remarks. If only she weren't the liberated woman who attempted to kidnap him, maybe Jim would have given her a second look. He turns his gaze to Spock, who looks torn between amusement and spite. Actual jealous _spite_. This is so adorable, he thinks.

"Bones, have fun cleaning up here," Jim says cheerfully, getting out of his seat and taking Spock's hand in his. "We're getting outta here."

With that, he drags a startled Spock from the room, ignoring Bones' indignant cries of _goddamn it Jim, get back here with that green-blooded hobgoblin_ and grumbles of _I need a fuckin' drink._ Thank god they expected the worst and decided to do beta shift today because if Jim wasn't already with Spock, he'd have jumped his first officer because _Jesus Christ,_ he has never found jealousy this sexy before.

"Remind me to flirt with every woman I see just to get you riled up," Jim murmurs against Spock's lips just as they close the door of his quarters.

"I cannot promise you anything," Spock says, entangling a hand in his unruly hair. Jim laughs but it turns into a gasp when Spock's hand dips inside his waistband.

" _Jesus_."

"You have called me by a different name. Should I be wary of the humans' religious figure as competition?"

"If you don't stop teasing me, maybe you fucking should."

"Perhaps I wish to remind you that you are _mine_."

"Fuck. I swear to god--Spock." It comes out like a question, as if Jim can't believe his luck, landing a guy like Spock.

Sensing Jim's bewilderment, Spock nibbles affectionately along his jaw. "And maybe I also wish to spend the entirety of alpha shift making you wonder why you even _thought_ of showing affection for another, whether she is a fine woman or not."

"Okay, alright, fuck just--"

Spock bites down hard on the soft skin under his ear. "Tell me what you want, Jim."

That just about does it for Jim, to be honest. Everything that happens next is a blur of incoherence, obscenities, and frantic moans of Spock's name. In the end, he's so spent, he's surprise he doesn't fall asleep immediately. He manages to cuddle with Spock to the point that they're wrapped around each other, that if someone comes in and sees them, besides getting a major boner (or lady boner) and wanting to join in the fun, he won't know whose limbs are whose.

"I love you," Spock says, and at that moment, Jim has never been so content.

"Love you too," he murmurs, squeezing around Spock's middle. He tucks his head under Spock's chin and drifts to sleep with a smile on his face.

 

***

 

The next day, Jim manages to convince Spock to beam down with him instead of joining the skeleton crew. It's hard work, but hey, Sulu and Chekov want out anyway, saying that they would rather have their first shift after leaving Ardana without a massive hangover. Bizarre behavior for those two so at first, Jim thinks that there's a hidden agenda, a sort of ploy by the crew to get him and Spock to spend more time together. And sure, that's why some ensigns volunteer, gushing supporters that they are, but when Jim sees his helmsman and navigator exchanging looks that Jim can't even begin to describe--well, he just accepts their offer, no questions asked. So does Spock.

Now, thankfully, they're sitting by the sidelines with Jim getting started on his drinks and Spock watching the partygoers with slight interest. He's drinking a chocolate milkshake, which Jim laughs at the first time he sees it, praising the heavenly deities for giving Vulcans chocolate when they gave humans and the rest of the universe alcohol. Add that to their elven ears and ridiculous bowl cuts, then they're the most adorable bastards in the Federation, sticks up their asses or not. Well, maybe except for tribbles. Even when they're all over the floor or almost suffocating you, tribbles are still pretty cute.

"Why is it that you always come with us during shore leave but you never do anything fun?" Jim asks, genuinely curious. He expected that Spock would say that he can better spend the time meditating or performing experiments in the Science Labs but that's not what happens.

Spock doesn't reply for a while, thinking about his answer. "I do not want to leave you alone." He brushes a finger along the inside of Jim's wrist, sending him a wave of reassurance. "It is not that I do not trust you. Danger seems to come to you, whether you go looking for it or not. I wish to be ready when you need me."

"I can handle myself," Jim whines, but it's meaningless. Spock will always be there, waiting by his side, no matter what happens. His voice turns soft. "Thank you."

"You are welcome," Spock replies. Jim sucks in a breath when Spock starts to run two fingers along his hand, from his knuckles to the tip of his fingers, from his wrists to his palms. The sly _bastard_.

"Wanna dance?" Jim asks, stumbling through the words. He can feel his face getting red, and Bones is gonna tease him about looking like a tomato if Spock keeps up this Vulcan version of blatantly making out. Apparently the only distraction he can think of involves possible grinding against Spock and even more blatant flirting. Great.

“I am not adverse to it.” And that’s how Jim finds himself pressed against Spock’s body, feeling overwhelmed because fuck, this is even more sensual than actual sex. It’s probably because of the thought of Spock dancing, showing in public a bit of what Jim sees when they are alone.

They don’t dare to do anything more than seemingly casual brushes of their hands, not in public. They know that by now, the whole crew has probably found out about them becoming an official thing, but they want to keep most of their relationship private. That much they have agreed on.

Jim makes the mistake of turning around and now he is chest to chest with Spock and he can see the darkness in his eyes, his unabashed lust and desire. His breathing goes from difficult to nonexistent, getting stuck in his throat because of his heart’s fast-paced beating. He has been half-hard for a while but now it’s getting downright painful.

"Maybe we should go back to our room." Jim struggles with the words, his mind blurring just as the edges of his vision do, focusing only on Spock.

"Indeed," Spock agrees, taking Jim's hand and guiding him through the crowd. It's all a haze in his mind and the next thing he knows, Spock is pushing him onto the bed and at the same time, fumbling with their clothes. Jim lets him, mostly because he can't really think right now, much less get his hands to function.

"I thought you would have wanted to engage in coitus while in a public location," Spock says as he trails a hand from Jim's chest, down to his hip. He's teasing, Jim realizes.

"Not feeling up to it," Jim says, choking on his breath when Spock licks the shell of his ear, at the same time pressing a hand against his crotch, the heavy, alien warmth making the mix of pleasure and desperation feel even more intense. "Maybe next time."

"I look forward to it," Spock says, and _shit,_ Jim thinks, he actually sounds serious.

"Fuck. Don't you dare get my hopes up for nothing," Jim warns, but the threat is lost when it turns into a moan.

"I do not intend to." Spock pauses, hesitates before he sits up and takes Jim with him.

"What the fuck, Spock? What happened to _I do not intend to_?"

Spock raises his eyebrow, probably because of his admittedly horrible imitation of his first officer's monotone. "There is something that I wish to do. However, I wanted to ask for your permission first."

Jim scrunches his nose in thought. Was it a position or something? But judging by how nervous Spock looks, it isn't that. He's so confident in bed that Jim sometimes has trouble remembering that he has to act all Vulcan-y and suppress his emotions in public. He can’t even count the times that he expected tactility from Spock, only to end up with confusion and painful realization. No, it's something more. Something important to Spock and to Vulcans and--

"Wait, you're getting all jittery because you want to meld with me?" Jim asks, jaw dropping.

"Vulcans do not get jittery," Spock says, sounding fucking defensive, Jim notes. "Yes, I wish to meld with you. It is a serious matter for Vulcans, a test of whether or not our minds are compatible."

Jim's pleasant surprise drains out of him, leaving only worry and anxiety. "What happens if they're not? Compatible, I mean."

"Then we pursue a physical, purely human relationship," Spock says, his voice soft. "I will still love you, Jim. I will still stay beside you."

Jim purses his lips. He knows how important bonds and telepathy are to Vulcans. He doesn't know all the details but he can infer from what Spock has told him, whether it's from the older or younger of the Vulcans.

"If you are not ready, you only need to tell me no, Jim," Spock says, sneaking his arms under Jim's and wrapping them around his torso. "Then, we will continue where we left before."

"No." The word leaves Jim's mouth before he can think about it. He struggles with his resolve until he's sure of his confidence, his determination, how he's going to handle the outcome of their first attempt at melding. Sure, he's done this with the Ambassador before, but this is different. This is romantic in nature, a meld to see if they can form a bond and in human terms, get married. This is some serious shit and Jim can't mess it up.

"I want to do this," Jim says, hugging Spock back. "I want to know just as much as you do. I'm scared but I want to _feel_ you, Spock."

Spock pulls away slightly, just enough to put his hand between them, on Jim's face. He searches Jim's eyes for a moment, and his mouth sets into a thin line when Jim nods his assent.

"Just do it, Spock."

And he does. "My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts."

The next thing Jim sees is color. All kinds of color splashed everywhere, some parts dark, some light, and some a shocking mix of neon. Jim can't see the corners of the room, can't tell if it is a room or endless space.

"Jim," he hears. It's Spock, he realizes, and a jolt of dread shoots up his spine. "Jim, you have no reason to worry."

"What? Why?"

"Your mind is very... fascinating." Jim feels himself being enveloped in warmth, feeling a rush of _lovelovelovet'hy'laminecomfortlove_. "I can see little similarity between our minds and yet they are attracted to each other. I can feel a bond slowly forming, Jim, even though I did not initiate it. Can you feel it too?"

Jim feels something tug at him, the feeling too pleasant to be a jerk. "Yes."

"And you want this as well?"

Jim melts against Spock's mental hold, reaching at his errant thoughts of affection and pulling them close, curling around them. He breathes, his tone happy, content, and awed all at the same time. "Yes, Spock. Yes."

After that, it's a whirlwind of emotions for Jim, the majority of which is pleasure. There's no desperation, none of the impatience in physical stimulation. In the meld, there's only pleasure and sincerity and raw emotion. When Spock finally slips them out of it, he's satisfied and his emotions still linger, scattered in different parts of his body and shooting all around his mind. It's a wonder how Spock can make him feel this way, so vulnerable and yielding and ready for anything; that's the thought that stays adrift in Jim's mind as he slowly submits to sleep, along with the intention to do this more often in the future.

Think of the possibilities, Jim explores. Like when he's had enough from work or when he needs to take a fucking anxiety pill but won't because that's just who he is, he can just ask Spock to do this and he's back to normal again. Or the whole telepathy thing, they could use that in away missions. It's all very cool, but maybe that's just Jim's overly hyper sleepy talk says. He isn't really sure. Maybe he'll know tomorrow. He's Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise. He has fanfuckingtastic memory so nope, he isn't gonna forget this thought process or how vulgar he gets when he's about to doze off in the morning. Right? Right.

 

***

 

It is very cool, Jim decides, when they discover that they can have a telepathic conversation without touching. It takes Jim by surprise when he's changing into his uniform after they take a shower together. He's fixing his hair, grinning stupidly at his reflection and chanting _t'hy'la_ repeatedly under his breath, getting used to it.

_You must stress the second syllable more, Jim,_ he hears, and he almost drops his comb in surprise. He looks around the bathroom, his eyes widening when he sees that there's no one there.

"Spock?" he calls, uncertain.

_I am speaking to you through our bond,_ Spock says. Thinks, whatever.

_You didn't tell me about this,_ Jim whines. _This is so cool._

_I did not think it was likely to happen. Our bond is only starting to form, Jim. I assumed we would only be able to sense each other's surface thoughts and emotions._

_Huh._ Jim starts to comb his hair again, slowly. _Why is that?_

_I think it has to do with the intensity of our t'hy'la bond. It is rare on Vulcan and even rarer that it is documented._

_So this thing that we can do, this is just the start? There's more?_

_Indeed._ Jim can feel Spock's hesitation as a hum vibrating around the bond. _We must go to New Vulcan if we wish to have a full bond._

Jim smiles, envisions a ball of love, care and reassurance, and pushes it towards the bond. _I'll ask Uhura later._

_Thank you, Jim._

When they eat at the mess, they sit beside each other, close enough to elicit a groan from everyone who comes to sit at their table. Sulu and Chekov send them knowing smiles while Nyota and Rand roll their eyes before getting into a whispered conversation in which they _giggle_ of all things. Bones, as usual, breaks into a flurry of curses and grumbles of _goddamn it, now I have to deal with these lovesick idiots._ Scotty and Carol are pretty much normal, fawning over the ship's nacelles, and Carol's uber secret project that only the two of them, plus Spock, know about. Jim makes a mental note to ask Spock about it later. It's a loud thought, apparently, because Spock sends Jim an amused _It is a confidential matter, Captain._

Jim glances at his first officer. _Isn't there anything I can do to convince you to tell me?_

Spock's mouth turns up into a small smile. _Perhaps._

Of course, Jim blushes. It doesn't matter that he's 26; he turns into a teenager with a high school crush when it comes to Spock. Everyone sees it and suddenly he and Spock are under speculation. Spock takes it all in stride, keeping up his blank face and Vulcan brand of avoidance. Jim takes to bowing his head to hide his even redder face, whining and trying to get their attention away from him.

It doesn't work, of course, and the only time they stop is when they're on the bridge for alpha shift.

"Uhura, send Starfleet a request for the Enterprise to visit New Vulcan." Jim tries to keep his face straight when Uhura outright smiles. "No need to label it urgent."

"Yes, Captain."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Sulu, are we ready to go?"

"The ship is at optimal status, Captain. The coordinates for starbase 1 are in. Engineering is ready with warp factor 4."

Jim settles on his chair and takes a peek at Spock. His first officer turns and raises an eyebrow at him. _Jim?_

His smile reaches his eyes when he replies. _Hey. Sorry, sentimentality hits me at the worst times._

_You do not wish to leave Ardana because it is where we, as you say, got together?_

_I know. It's silly. I'll give Sulu the okay now._ Jim faces forward again but he doesn't even get to open his mouth because Spock sends him another thought.

_It is not a surprising reaction, Jim. However, when we do go to New Vulcan, it will be remembered as the place where we bonded. There is that to look forward too as well._

Jim smiles. _I love you._

_And I, you._

"All right, Lieutenant. Punch it."  


**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on [tumblr](http://connerkent.tk/)!


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